


Wide Awake

by SmilinStar



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilinStar/pseuds/SmilinStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a second she thinks she's stuck in a memory, and if this is what the dead remains of human Caroline thinks is going to persuade her to return from the darkness, she thinks human Caroline is an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wide Awake

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a drabble request I got on tumblr, although it doesn't exactly follow it to a T.

**\-----**

 

 

 

The sluggish movements, the uncooperative limbs, feet stuck in the mud feeling, are the dead give-aways. The hazy, glowy light filter isn't exactly subtle either.

 

“A dream?” she scoffs, indignant at the battling consciousness she's been blocking for nearly a month now. _Yeah right, like that's going to work._

Dismissive she may be, but there's still a pit in her stomach, and it's filled with the fear that time's running out. Reality is rushing towards her, snapping at her heels and she can't run any faster.

 

Her legs give way and she slides on to the top stair of her childhood home, back against the wall as familiar voices waft up from the living room.

 

She feels like her fifteen year old self again.

 

Insecure, unworthy, unloved, unsure of who she is and who she should be. It's something she thought she'd conquered long ago, but there it is. All over again. And she has to check, and re-check, because it is still _off._ The switch is still parked at '0' and humanity is going to have to work a lot harder than this.

 

It's an argument.

 

Familiar.

 

Something she'd had to listen to countless times growing up – angry voices hammering inside her skull despite the shut bedroom door and the blast of pop from her stereo.

 

For a second she thinks she's stuck in a memory, and if this is what the dead remains of human Caroline thinks is going to persuade her to return from the darkness, she thinks human Caroline is an idiot.

 

But it's not. Not a memory. And human Caroline is smarter than anyone ever gave her credit for.

 

“I hate to say it Liz, but I was right.”

 

The sound of her dad's voice hasn't haunted her dreams for a very long time, and it presses heavy against her chest.

 

“No, no you're wrong.”

 

_Mom._

 

She squeezes her eyes shut.

 

“She's a monster,” her dad says, and she takes in a deep breath.

 

“No.”

 

“She's a monster Liz. Too weak. Selfish. Cruel-”

 

“No. No she's not.”

 

Her mother's words are doused with anguish, an underlying desperation for him to just stop. But her father isn't listening;

 

“Evil. A murderer. An abomination.”

 

Every word is just another wooden bullet being emptied into her chest, and she thinks her switch must be defective. It must be.

 

“Stop it Bill, stop it. No she's not. She's brave and bright and good and . . . strong. So strong.”

 

And she cant help it. It's those damn uncooperative limbs of hers that have her standing, moving one foot down and in front of the other. And then she's standing there in the open space of the living room, the ghost of her parents staring at her.

 

One with nothing but disappointment and accusation.

 

“Daddy?” she whispers, and it's more a plea than a question.

 

“But she failed. She failed us,” he says staring at her, unflinching, unmoved.

 

_That's not what you said_ , she wants to scream, _you don't mean that._

 

_Sweetheart I don't hate you. I love you. You're strong. You're beautiful. You're good. And even after everything that's happened to you. You are exactly who your mother and I hoped you'd grow up to be._

The other stares at her with that same unabashed hope.

 

“Tell me he's wrong, Caroline. Tell me he's wrong.”

 

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, as if it could erase the look in theirs. Her cheeks are wet with tears, and if she were of sound mind, she might just laugh at how she can't even flip the switch and do it right.

 

“I'm sorry,” she says into the darkness.

 

“So am I.”

 

The voice is cold, and her skin prickles with it.

 

_Your mom wanted you to know how proud of you she was. And she should be. You're a beautiful, strong woman, generous friend, a bright light in a sea of dark. She said you were extraordinary, and you are._

She opens her eyes, and the bright glow has dimmed to an overcast grey and there's nothing but disappointment staring back at her.

 

“Look at what you've done.”

 

“Mom?”

 

“Look.”

 

And she looks and she sees, and all she sees are nameless, faceless bodies lying on the floor around her, the carpet, the walls, the furniture stained with blood.

 

“But I didn't-” she starts, _I didn't kill them. I swear, I didn't._

_“_ But you will,” she says, and it's nothing but fear and disgust and shame staring back at her, as her mom steps away, further and further, her father already long gone.

 

“Mom? Please.”

 

But she doesn't answer her.

 

No.

 

She can barely make her out any more.

 

No.

 

She's gone.

 

_No._

 

She wakes on the floor, mouth open in a silent scream and a face still wet with tears.

 

 

\-----

 

 

“Caroline, please. If you get this message, please call me. I know you don't care, but I'm worried.”

 

Dropping the phone from her ear, she lets out a long sigh. She hasn't heard from her in days, and she's worried. Caroline may have managed to switch off her humanity and somehow hold on to her control with a vice grip, but she's scared it's not going to last forever. She's scared that Stefan's right, that sooner or later she will snap, and she's not sure anyone is going to be able to bring her back from that.

 

She walks over to the cabinet, goes to pour herself a drink when she hears it.

 

A desperate knock on the front door of the Salvatore mansion. It's sharp and loud and reverberates in the silence of the large empty house. She's alone. Damon had some 'errands' to run with Alaric, and Stefan had gone to see Matt, something about crazy Enzo and needing his help.

 

The sound startles her, some of Damon's precious bourbon missing her glass and spilling on to the wood. She curses under her breath, drops the glass and walks over to the door.

 

“Who is it?”

 

No answer.

 

She pulls on the door and opens it just a fraction.

 

She doesn't even bother reining in her surprise.

 

“Caroline?”

 

 

\-----

 

 

As if he didn't already have enough on his plate, what with the massive mess he'd made of his relationship with Caroline, Caroline switching it off and losing her before he'd even really had her, he had a lot to deal with. But now? Now he also had to add Enzo to the list of his troubles. Damon's psychotic friend was back to wreaking havoc with his life, sticking his nose into business that wasn't his and had apparently dragged poor Matt into it as well.

 

He's half way there to meet him when his phone starts to ring.

 

With one hand on the wheel, the other puts her on speaker, “Elena? Everything okay?”

 

“You need to come back. Right now.”

 

“Why? What's going on?”

 

“Caroline-”

 

“I'll be right there.” He doesn't need telling twice.

 

Matt and Enzo will just have to wait.

 

 

\-----

 

 

He walks in through the front door not fifteen minutes after she calls him.

 

His face is a picture of panic and concern, his eyes looking only for Caroline, and confirmed with a barely restrained, “Where is she? What happened?”

 

Elena shuts the door behind him, and follows, “She's in the-”

 

She doesn't have to finish the sentence. He's found her.

 

“She's there,” she says, coming to stand beside him as he stares at the scene.

 

“What happened?” he says again.

 

She feels so utterly helpless as she shakes her head, “I don't know. She just came and knocked on the door muttering about how she failed. How she failed them. How they hate her and that she can't do it any more. And then nothing. She's been sitting there like that since.”

 

Stefan swallows, his eyes never once leaving the sight of Caroline sitting as still as a statue, staring at the flames burning on in the fireplace.

 

She puts a hand on his upper arm and pushes slightly, “Go.”

 

He closes his eyes with a deep breath and slowly, carefully treads his way across the room towards her. Elena stays as she is, and watches on.

 

Watches as Stefan stops right in front of her, and Caroline doesn't so much as blink.

 

Watches as he sits on the table in front of her, and breathes in the sight of her.

 

“Caroline?” His voice is soft, gentle, as if he's talking to a wounded animal that may leap away at any given second.

 

There's the slightest tremor of his hand as he reaches out and places it on hers, and she's holding her breath along with him.

 

“Caroline?” he says again, “What happened?”

 

She's still watching the flames dance, and it's a long minute before she speaks, “I couldn't do it any more.”

 

“Do what?” he asks.

 

“Disappoint them.”

 

“Who?”

 

It's a redundant question, the answer is in the story of the last few months, and it's written all over her blank, emotionless face. Elena knows it. Stefan knows it. Just as much as they know it's a question that really does need asking, because only in answering it, can Caroline truly begin to heal.

 

She waits along with him. Watches as he rubs his thumb over the skin of her clasped hands, and shifts closer, forehead nearly touching hers.

 

“Caroline,” he asks again, voice so soft she almost doesn't hear it, “Who?”

 

“My dad. Mom,” she says, her voice cracking with the weight of it.

 

And then it's over.

 

Finally over.

 

There are tears rolling down her cheeks, glistening in the glow of the fire, and the pain etched in the creases of her face are only reflected on that of the man sitting in front of her. “Oh god,” she cries, “It hurts. It hurts.”

 

And Stefan is there, her anguish mirrored in his eyes as he whispers, “I know, I know it does.” And then he's pulling her into him. Head cradled in his hand, pressing into his chest, and his own face buried in her hair. He hugs her tight and she clutches him just as hard.

 

Standing there, she feels like an intruder on a moment she has no right to be a part of.

 

She sees it now.

 

He loves her.

 

Loves her in a way that he never could her.

 

A part of her aches with the realisation, but its okay, she thinks.

 

Stefan and Caroline.

 

Caroline and Stefan.

 

It's kind of perfect.

 

With tears of her own and a sad smile, she slips away and leaves them be.

 

 

 

**End.**  

 

 

 


End file.
